It all began with shit on the floor. Shit on the floor? Shouldn't be there at all...
Then I looked up and I said oh man and that's how fucked up Tuesday began*
There was the shitty traffic in the morning which meant 30 minutes to travel 200m.
There was the patient that wanted me to "examine his groin" and didn't want me to wear gloves.
There was the patient I examined and when I walked back to the write up area the nurse noticed my belly, blanched and said "I don't think we should have got you to do that exam, especially not alone"
There was the abusive patient hopped up on speed
There was the patient who stopped taking her meds and deteriorated
The patient whose blood pressure defies nature
The patient who stuck his almost healed hand up his arse to disempact and shat on the floor.
The woman with the cakebox on the bus (that I managed to catch after 20 minutes of watching full buses sail merrily past) who kept walking in front of me, pushing into me and then walking slower than me.
The man with his bag sitting next to him taking up a seat on the crowded bus sitting in the GODDAMN FUCKING priority seating for disabled and pregnant persons as identified by the attractive sticker in front of his face who would not move necessitating me standing for the whole journey.
Getting home too late to be able to suck it all in and be cheerful and happy with my babies.
Sitting on the floor in the kitchen just crying because I couldn't do anything else. Couldn't move, couldn't talk, couldn't think of anything else to do.
Sometimes, it just bites.
*The Monkey's favourite book is Wacky Wednesday